


Aging is fun

by IrenkaFeralKitty



Series: Rogue Squadron Shorts [25]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Aging, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23108698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrenkaFeralKitty/pseuds/IrenkaFeralKitty
Summary: Age comes to them all, in the end
Series: Rogue Squadron Shorts [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1291190
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	Aging is fun

It was a simple fact that despite being in his thirties, Wes looked a decade younger. Tycho looked more dignified and genteel every day as the graying at his temples slowly grew. And none of them were as sought after and flirted with as Wedge was. 

It was all supremely unfair. 

Hobbie looked like someone had attacked him with a paintbrush, streaking his slowly thinning blonde hair with random, liberal, gray streaks. He woke up every morning to new lines and wrinkles, and was faced with the growing certainty that it wouldn’t be long now before he aged out of his cockpit. 

It was enough to make him consider drowning himself in his breakfast, he reflected with a mental sigh. 

Sitting across from him in the booth, Tycho was frowning at his caf. 

“What’s wrong?” Hobbie asked. 

“Does the caf smell strange to you?”

Blinking, Hobbie gave his caf a cautious sniff, then took a sip. “Seems normal to me. It’s not as strong as what we have on base, but I’m not sure it’s legal for restaurants to serve caf to organic beings that strong.”

Tycho wasn’t appeased. He turned slightly, jabbing Wedge in the side with his elbow. “Stop squinting at the menu and try the caf. Something’s wrong with it.”

The crease between Wedge’s eyes deepened as he went from glaring (squinting) at the menu to glaring (properly) at Tycho. “There’s nothing wrong with the caf.”

“Your sense of taste is going like your eyesight if you think that,” Tycho muttered. 

“My eyesight is just as-“

“Wes, the caf…” Tycho’s voice trailed off as he stared at Wes. “What in the name of the Sith are you doing?”

The man next to Hobbie was twisted in his seat, his back arching and his shoulder almost on the table as he stretched his side. “New mattress,” Wes grunted. “Too soft. Sleeping on my stomach was a mistake. Everything hurts.”

“Good gods, we all have one foot in the grave,” Hobbie said, sounding appalled. 

“Excuse me?!” Wes straightened up, an expression of outrage on his face.

Hobbie gestures around the table. “Tycho’s sense of smell is going, Wedge won’t admit he’s getting nearsighted, and you’re still in pain from sleeping wrong despite having taken some meds.”

“Notice he doesn’t include himself in that list,” Tycho growled into his caf. 

“What?” Hobbie raised a self-conscious hand to his graying hair. “I- My hair-“

“Cosmetic issues don’t count,” Tycho interrupted. 

Hobbie thought for a moment. “I’ve been having to take some or all of my prosthetics off at night more often-“

“That’s just because you’ve cancelled the last two appointments you had to get the interfaces tuned up,” Wes said, jumping in. “That’s maintenance, not aging.”

Hobbie frowned. And thought. And thought some more. “Huh. I guess nothing new has really been bothering me.”

“Lucky you.” Wedge looked more than a little annoyed as he set down the menu and rubbed his eyes. “Somehow, you've managed to dodge the beginning of our slow, inevitable physical decline. Congratulations, you're as healthy as a nerf in the spring.”

“I never have that kind of luck,” Hobbie said. Alarm flooded him. “It’s all going to hit at once, isn’t it? I’ll wake up one morning blind as a hawk-bat, too sore to move, and with dubious control over my-“

Wes clamped a hand over Hobbie’s mouth. “I think that’s enough,” he said. 

“... I still think something’s wrong with the caf.”

“Oh, shut up,” Wedge said. “And my eyes are fine. They just used an extremely small font on this menu.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Tycho retorted. He tried his caf again and grimaced. “I’m getting tea.”

Wes removed his hand from Hobbie’s face and resumed his strange stretching, trying to work out the lingering ache in his back. 

Instead of speaking up again, Hobbie hid behind his mug of caf, feeling marginally better than before. It may not last, but it was something to know he was doing a little better than the others at something for once. 


End file.
